 | Poems at Home and Abroad |  |
45
Foxgloves at Brandelhow
Now lingers long the gold within the west,
Now twilit daisies shimmer silver-clear
Pale as the moon upon the dewy mere
Where lilies sleep; the fern-clad mountain breast
Green to the sky, by white flocks is possess't,
And elders bloom, and roses far and near
Dance in the hedgerows, whilst, at dawn, I hear
The thrush sing loud about her second nest.
Now twilit daisies shimmer silver-clear
Pale as the moon upon the dewy mere
Where lilies sleep; the fern-clad mountain breast
Green to the sky, by white flocks is possess't,
And elders bloom, and roses far and near
Dance in the hedgerows, whilst, at dawn, I hear
The thrush sing loud about her second nest.
But neither daisied fields nor milk-white sheep,
Nor rose, nor song of bird, nor elder flower,
Nor hint of heather on the mountain's brow
Can wield o'er wondering hearts such magic power
As those tall foxglove spires, whose sceptres keep
Imperial sway for June in Brandelhow.
Nor rose, nor song of bird, nor elder flower,
Nor hint of heather on the mountain's brow
Can wield o'er wondering hearts such magic power
As those tall foxglove spires, whose sceptres keep
Imperial sway for June in Brandelhow.
| Poems at Home and Abroad | |